


Just a trick of the light

by loveinadoorway



Category: White Collar
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-09
Updated: 2011-08-09
Packaged: 2017-10-22 10:53:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveinadoorway/pseuds/loveinadoorway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title: Just a trick of the light<br/>Pairing/Characters: Neal, Peter<br/>Genre: gen<br/>Rating: PG-13<br/>Word count: 423<br/>Warnings: none<br/>Spoilers: none<br/>Disclaimers: Actually Neal Caffrey’s making me dinner right now.<br/>Summary: Comment_fic prompt: White Collar, any, "Let's face it. This isn't the worst thing you've caught me doing." (first line prompt)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a trick of the light

"Let's face it. This isn't the worst thing you've caught me doing."

No, not the worst thing, but sure as hell the most unexpected, Peter thought. He was thoroughly shaken by what he had just seen.

Neal was panting a little from the exertion, wiped the blood from his mouth with a diffident hand and turned away. As he was walking, he looked back over his shoulder at Peter.

“Coming? No need to linger here, waiting for the fucking MOB reinforcements to arrive,” he snarled.

Peter hurried to catch up with Neal. Actually, Neal saying fuck was about as startling as Neal rushing out behind a dumpster, beating two mobsters into oblivion with swift, precise and terribly efficient moves. Brutal moves. Not that Peter minded NOT having been killed by the said two mobsters, but seriously? Neal? WTF?

Neal was walking towards Peter’s car. He was madder than hell, partly because Peter had stupidly gone in there without backup, but even more so because Peter STILL underestimated him. Neal Fucking Caffrey might wear suits and be dolled up to the max, but jumpin’ Jaysus on a pogo stick, Peter ought to know better than actually BELIEVE he was Neal Caffrey.

Sure, of all his aliases, this one fit him like a glove, mostly. But he hadn’t been born Neal Caffrey, he had MADE himself Neal Caffrey. And the man he was underneath, the man that had been forged by hardships, the man that had been born in dark alleys, the man that had been raised on distrust and pain, well, that man was another matter entirely.

Neal knew how to kill a man and had he wanted to, had it been OPPORTUNE to do so, he could’ve made sure those two goons would never get up from the stinking tarmac behind the dumpster again. And he could’ve seen to that with his bare hands – or with a fucking gun. Just because he hated them with a fiery vengeance, just because they made him uneasy as hell didn’t mean he didn’t know how to use one.

Actually, the only reason they did make him uneasy was because he knew PRECISELY how to use them.

He took two labored breaths as he reached the car. Then he straightened up, opened the car door, slipped the mask back in place and told Peter to get in the car. And if his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, well, he had put his hat back on and it may just have been a trick of the light.


End file.
